Across the freeway flow Against the western row On ploding shoes i go To steal you out of tow On the phone i swear And so i will do so Up the access stair To cash my paycheck there And down again to fare The dirty city glare Through the motor squall To the south i bear Past the chola wall Swift and not to stall Beyond the burning tires Among the towering spires I say that i will go And so i will do so Down the barren lanes Heed the boarded panes To the hard window There to sign below Alone there i will go And put the money down To take you back to town On the phone i swear Not to tell your dad